


Very Incredibly Lucky

by tw0nkie



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Gen, honestly just two old men being old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 01:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11430519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tw0nkie/pseuds/tw0nkie
Summary: A visit to the Seine and a conversation between two old friends who used to be not quite so.





	Very Incredibly Lucky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss M (missm)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missm/gifts).



It has been a long time since he first stood here, looking down into the waters. A long time since the streets had been stained red with the blood of young, foolish, hopeful students. A long time since the barricades rose and fell. A long time since he was dragged out of the Seine and brought home with Valjean like a stray.

Jean Valjean. He finds it funny that in all those years they had spent together, he never really knew Valjean until Javert almost took his own life. There was more to him than a convict, more to him than a saint. He was peppered with occasional bouts of well-intended insults, someone to argue and banter with who would remain friends with you. Someone who could watch you break down and build you back up patiently, even if you were no more than strangers to each other.

The first few years had been difficult, with them sidestepping around the painful memories and events from _before_ , trying to find the lines but too scared to explore. Still, he remembered when Valjean had had nightmares and woke up to see Javert looking at him, crying out still thinking he was trapped in his terror. But that had changed, over time, just as Javert had.

It was confusing and jarring to continue his duties. When catching a petty thief, he could sometimes see the face of a man from Faverolles with nephews and nieces to feed. Valjean had been there, though. Valjean had been there to ask, to comfort, to help.

It had become easier, over the months, to distinguish the good and the bad and recognise that sometimes it was both and neither. Still it was difficult, but that was how it had to be, sometimes. To see the world as it is, to see it full of _people_ with _thoughts_ and _feelings_ and _reasons_ , that was what Valjean had taught him. No one was all good or all bad, no matter how saintly Valjean seemed, he, too, was human.

He was lucky, incredibly, so so lucky to have the old fool as a friend. And he did his best to ensure that Valjean was aware of that fact. The selfless martyr would have gladly faded away into obscurity if it had not been for Javert. Honestly!

But yes, he was lucky to have Valjean as a companion. Lucky to be able to sit together near the fireplace in a comfortable silence, occasional speaking up or making a remark. Lucky to be able to be on his knees next to Valjean, who was patient with him even as he mistook the flowers for weeds. Lucky to have someone to drag him outside each morning and conduct a decent chat with. Lucky to have someone who _understood_ , who was _there_. Indeed, Javert was an incredibly lucky man.

“Perhaps you would see fit to tell me what you’re thinking about, Inspector?” came a warm, deep voice. Javert hummed in reply, “It is odd to be here again in the day. The sun is there instead of the moon, the sky is a light blue, the stars aren’t out yet, and the Seine reflects a rather pleasant colour. It’s very different from the dark green I remember.”

Valjean chuckles, a low rumble, “ _Au contraire, mon ami._ ” He leans against the parapet, and points down at their rather murky reflections. “I think you’ll spot a star in there.”

Javert barks out a laugh, “I think you mean two, although the real thing is much better.” He gestures to Valjean, words carrying a light teasing tone but with an underlying sincerity. Valjean beams at him and a butterfly gives a few flutters in his heart.

“A real charmer you are. You’ve always had such a way with words,” says Valjean. _“Would you like my hat?”_ he quotes, recounting an incident from perhaps decades ago.

“You still remember the exact words?” asks Javert, pleasantly surprised. He had intended for the words to have a lasting effect.

“It _was_ very memorable, the criminals clambering to get out of the window,” comments Valjean fondly. “Of course, the only one who _did_ escape was the victim!”

Javert raises an eyebrow, “Ah yes, the victim, who took a hot poker straight from the fireplace and used it to burn himself.” Valjean’s face turned a light shade of red at his words. “I really don’t know what I was thinking, to be honest.”

There are a few moments of peaceful silence, before, “It _is_ weird to be back here again, just to see the sights.”

“I can tell, the night was not a pleasant one.”

The two men look out into the Seine, both remembering a different set of memories of the same night. “Perhaps we should pick up some seeds from the market,” says Javert, resting his chin on his fist. “You’ve always said you wanted to see some more variety in your garden.”

Valjean smiles, “Perhaps we should. Would you like to join me in the garden again?” One corner of Javert’s lips twist upwards, “It depends on how much you’d like to see the plants grow.” Valjean laughs at his words.

“You aren’t that bad, you’re getting better.” Valjean says, turning to face Javert.

Javert snorts, “Tell that to the daisies I uprooted the last time you let me loose on your plants.”

“We can always get more. Come, my dear Inspector, let us go to the market before the seeds all run out.” Valjean turns to walk away.

“I don’t really think the daisies are high in demand,” mutters Javert as he matches Valjean’s pace. The two men continue to trade barbs and insights as they make their way along the streets. Later, Valjean will make a horrible decision and allow Javert to garden with him, and Javert will make an equally horrible decision and agree to do so.

Still, both of them think as they witness the disaster unfolding before their hands, they are very incredibly lucky to be friends.


End file.
